Wednesday, 23 May 2012

The shiny wall isn't always blue.

Blank stare
With grim expression.
A face that can only be related
To an empty pit,
Of something ill-fated.
But she's soft-centered,
A smile begins to melt the water,
The image falls, and begins afresh.
Something new, something young,
Something with a dress.
A woman that once sung 'impossible'
Now with a posture so strong, yet still fragile.
She's independant, she's renewed,
And beside her feet, is a glorious sight.
Unlimited tins of paint, unlimited light
To a canvas that is as wide as the horizon.
She became the artist.

No comments:

Post a Comment